


Target Aquired

by hoppnhorn



Series: Harringrove Bits & Pieces [9]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Assassin AU, Assassin!Billy, Assassination, M/M, Poison, Poisoning, cop!steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 09:14:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13760955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoppnhorn/pseuds/hoppnhorn
Summary: The Scorpion was one of the best assassins in the business. When Steve was handed a folder with the simple alias written across it, he’d been shocked at how little had been found on the guy. They didn’t even have a blurry picture. Not a thing. Not a description, no age. Nothing. Just an MO. Poison.





	Target Aquired

He’s been waiting for days for this moment. All for these precious couple of seconds. His thoughts buzz like bees in his head, blood surging in his veins. He’s high on adrenaline, muscles clenching with the need to move, to act. This is it his body screams. This is the moment he finally catches his prey.

The radio in Steve’s right ear crackles.

_“The senator is in the elevator. Approaching third floor.”_

He swallows, nods to no one, and flexes the fingers he’s got clamped around his gun.

_“Exiting onto third floor.”_

Steve moves, finally, his hands sweating on the butt of his glock as he steps to a balcony. The room below is full of people. Rich people, paying thousands of dollars for a seat at one of the round, white tables to eat and drink and judge each other. And listen to Senator Gotterman blab about his next term. His next election. Whatever.

All Steve cares about is the anonymous tip he’d gotten three hours ago. A phone call from a phone booth.

_“Gotterman dies tonight. You wanna catch The Scorpion, you better be watching.”_

The Scorpion. The name was as familiar as his own at this point. He’d been hunting the guy for over a year, weaving together his kills like a spider’s web. The Scorpion was one of the best assassins in the business. When Steve was handed a folder with the simple alias written across it, he’d been shocked at how little had been found on the guy. They didn’t even have a blurry picture. Not a thing. Not a description, no age. Nothing. Just an MO. Poison.

Although the guy is a fan of mixing that up. Sometimes it’s in food. Other times, injections. But the guys favorite? Long distance dart. Small, barely painful, and lethal within seconds. Steve almost admired the skill it took to use such a medieval method of murder, but it didn’t stop him from chasing the sonofabitch.

So here he lies, waiting in the shadows as the senator takes the podium to a chorus of applause. Steve rolls his eyes. Part of him doesn’t give a shit if another rich aristocrat eats it in front of mob of his minions. But the cop part of him would jump in front of one of those darts for the guy.  

“My friends…” The senator begins and Steve tunes him out, scanning the room. No one lurks above like he does and no one below is standing except for servers. He’d briefed the senator’s security team when he’d arrived and they’d reluctantly let him observe. But they hadn’t taken his precautions to heart. There were too many people milling about on the flanks of the room. There were too many unchained doors.  _Fire safety._ The hotel’s staff had barked at him. He’d wanted to bark back “dead senator”.

But it doesn’t matter now. There wasn’t a moment left for preparation. The Scorpion was going to strike and Steve could only wait. Wait and pray he could catch him before another body made the file.

A tickle at the back of his neck makes Steve shift his stance, his skin tingling. Something is off. Something is wrong. He looks around the room, wonders what his subconscious senses that he hasn’t seen.

The tickle becomes a sharp pain and Steve reaches up to scratch. His fingers meet something small and hard at the base of his spine.

A dart.

He pulls it out and stares at it dumbly, his whole body going cold in terror.

 _No._ This hadn’t been about the senator at all. The mark was too easy. The room was too easy.

“Easy.” A voice purrs into his ear and Steve wobbles, tries to lift his gun but a hand has it, twists it from his grip. “No need for that.”

“You.” Steve tries to turn, to see his murderer, face his death head on. But the figure at his back grabs hold of his jaw, pulls him into an embrace that’s almost intimate. He can feel a solid chest against his shoulder blades, feels breath against his cheek.

“It’ll be easier if you just breathe.” The voice whispers, the grip on his face moving. Massaging?

“Fuck you.” Steve hisses but his knees give out and he finds himself leaning against the strength behind him. His mind reels as he sags into the hold on him, disbelief running hot in his veins. He’s been duped. “ _You_  called me.”

“I did.” There’s a little bit of a smug laugh in his ear and Steve shudders. Death has a sense of humor, the wicked asshole. “I wanted to meet face to face.”

“To kill me.” Steve adds. There’s a quiver to his voice that he’s ashamed of. He’s been trained to give his life but this? This isn’t noble. This isn’t even fair.

“Nahh.” The killer hums, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “That’s no fun. I just wanted to, get to know you a little.” Steve breathes, deep and sudden, with relief. “This is just a little taste.” The man whispers into his temple. Steve can feel stubble on his cheek and he shivers at the almost affectionate way the guy is holding him close. “You’re too much fun to kill.”

“Fun?” Steve is almost completely slack now, his vision starting to blur. “You’re  _sick_.”

“Maybe. But having a pretty boy like you on my tail had me…curious.” Steve gasps as the air around him seems to grow thick and the hold on his chest adjusts. “Breathe. Don’t forget to breathe.”

“I’m going…” His head lulls as sleep tries to drag him down but a warm palm presses to his cheek, keeps him braced against a stubbly face. “…to catch you.”

“Good.” Steve can see the smile now, it’s right there in his peripherals. A pretty smile, he vaguely thinks. White and sharp and dazzling.

He’s fading when he looks up, sees two blue eyes twinkling in the low light.

“I want it to be you.” The Scorpion whispers, his eyes falling to Steve’s lips before they sweep back up and claim his gaze. “No one’s ever come close.”

“I will. You’re mine.” Steve hears himself slur, though the words aren’t quite what he means. The guy is in his grasp. He’s seen his face. He’ll have him behind bars. He’ll lock him away forever. But the way the beautiful man holding him in his arms smiles isn’t tainted with fear. There’s heat in his stare and Steve melts under it.

“Am I?” Darkness begins to rob Steve of his vision, the bright eyes and smug smile fading. He feels his body slipping, being lowered to the floor. But before he loses consciousness completely, he feels something soft on the corner of his mouth, a ghost of a kiss perhaps, then hot breath against his temple. “Funny. From where I’m standing, amigo, you’re all mine.”

When Steve falls into black, he can’t fight the feeling that the words ring true.  _Mine. You’re all mine._


End file.
